Atlantic Frontier - The Uists and Benbecula Grand Tours of the Scottish Islands

30 miles from mainland Scotland, there's a chain of low-lying islands

that face the full might of the Atlantic Ocean.

This really feels like a frontier - a battleground between the elements,

the sea and the land, which is seen and felt very dramatically,

especially in the winter months when tremendous storms lash this coast.

'In this series, I'm continuing my island journey,

'visiting the most northerly of the Shetland Islands,

'exploring the Western Isles

'and discovering the secrets of the loneliest places in Britain.'

To see them through the water like this, it's amazing!

Scotland boasts a wonderful array of islands.

In fact, there are nearly 300 of them

and that's not counting the myriad of stacks, rocks and skerries

that surround 6,000 convoluted miles of coast,

from the Atlantic Ocean to the North Sea.

For this grand tour,

I'm heading to the Outer Isles of the Uists and Benbecula.

My journey starts on South Uist

and heads through Benbecula to North Uist.

It's a distance of roughly 50 miles,

and I'll never be far from the sea.

From most of Scotland,

the homes and villages of the 4,000 or so folk who live here,

are hidden below the horizon.

And most people spend their lives living just a few feet above

the level of the stormy North Atlantic.

This is South Uist, and thankfully, today, the sea is relatively calm.

It's home to about 1,800 people,

but here, on this beautiful vast, empty stretch of sand,

you wouldn't know it.

It's absolutely stunning!

A place to fill your lungs.

And it's almost deserted.

There may not be many people here but there is a lot of water,

not just in the sea surrounding the island,

but also in the spectacular patchwork

of fresh water lochs and pools

that pockmark the landscape.

When the first, mostly wealthy, visitors

made their way to the Hebrides

the Uists quickly established a reputation as the best place

for one particular pursuit.

FILM COMMENTARY: 'The fishing has always attracted the traveller here.

'For the Uists seemed to have been designed by an angler,

'where the fishermen can share out the pools of trout, one to a man.'

The unique ecology of these unspoilt islands means that they have

become one of the best angling destinations in the world.

But you've got to know where and when to cast your line,

so I've enlisted gamekeeper Rory MacGillivray

to let me in on some of the local fishing secrets.

So, the reason we're coming down here, Rory, I suppose,

is because the tide's out.

Yeah, we'll come down to the sea pool here,

it's what's left after the tide goes out.

And we're gonna fish along the edge there.

So, as the tide goes down it leaves pools which trap the fish in them.

-Yeah.

-It's like a fish trap.

-Yes, that's basically what it is.

-Right.

We'll give it a shot, see what...

'And it's in these seawater pools that we hope to find our prey -

'the wild sea trout.'

'To tempt them, we're using sand eels as bait.'

So, as you pull through the water, see the sand eel.

-If I were a sea trout I'd be totally convinced by that.

-Well, hopefully.

Well, let's cast it out and see if we're gonna be lucky.

'Rory has lived here all his life,

'and learned how to fish these pools from an early age.'

When I was brought up, we had a big sea pool down below the house,

and what we would do is

-we would go down for flounders.

-Uh-huh.

We would fish, um...

-By using this technique?

-Using this technique.

-Uh-huh.

-Yeah.

-MAN ON FILM:

-'A rod, a tin of worms and a good companion.

'Talk and laughter.

'If there's a fish at the end of it, so much the better.

'But there's the sun and the wind and a hill stream,

'this is the stuff that dreams are made of.'

Was it entirely legal, this activity that

-used to go on back in the day?

-Ah.

No, it wasn't.

THEY LAUGH

No, I mean the... We weren't allowed to fish in sea pools.

-We weren't allowed, no.

-You weren't allowed to fish in a sea pool like this?

-No. We cert... We certainly weren't.

-Really?

No. It, um, it, um... You had the gamekeepers.

-Uh-huh.

-You had the river watchers.

-Uh-huh.

-But there was a difference.

It was one for the pot

and that was the true sense of the word, it really was one for the pot.

'In many ways, Rory is the classic poacher turned gamekeeper.

'Now it's his job to protect the island's resources.'

-On you go.

-I was trying my luck.

'And his expertise is much sought after by anglers visiting the island.'

Oh, no. That was really pathetic.

'And today, angling is more popular than ever.'

People are getting tired of the reservoirs, restocked...

-Well, I'm not surprised.

-Yeah.

Here, you're pitting yourself against the real deal.

-It's a wild fish.

-Right.

And for me, you know, coming and fishing here,

you can catch a lot of fish in a day,

but a lot of it depends on how good an angler you actually are.

'So far, nothing is taking my bait,

'and after several hours, we're down to our last sand eel.'

My teeth are beginning to chatter now.

It's not getting any warmer.

Come on, little fishy, come to me on my dishy.

'But just as I'm about to suggest heading to the chippy...'

-Whoa, whoa, whoa!

-You've got a fish? Oh, excellent.

-I've got a fish.

-Yes. Well done.

-Oh, that's amazing. Look at this!

-Agh!

Urgh, no. No!

-He lost it!

-No! It got away, Rory!

No, there's a difference - you lost it!

THEY LAUGH

It was a huge one as well, wasn't it?

Did you see the size of it?

-Oh, yeah, it was...

-It was it was a monster.

-A monster!

THEY CONTINUE LAUGHING

Looks like we're going hungry tonight.

But it's not just about catching a fish.

-No.

-Is it? When you come to a place like this, it's beautiful.

It's unique.

-Yeah, I mean...

-And you're part of something bigger.

-Yeah.

'Having caught nothing more than a chill,

'I head north to explore more of the island.'

If it's isolation and solitude that you're after,

this is a good place to come.

'Perhaps that's why many seeking respite

'from the stresses of modern life have found their way here.'

It's five miles on from here.

OK. Thank you very much.

'And they've always received a warm welcome.'

FILM NARRATOR: 'The visitor is a tradition, part of the life,

'an extension of the need to be hospitable, which is rooted not

'just in the generosity of the local folk, but also in their sensibility.

'The distances between people in the islands

'bonded them together, and it became unthinkable that any door should be locked against you.

'So that when you travel, the door you reach when the sun goes down,

'is the door you knock.

'And that is where you stay

'until the sun lights your road for you again.'

But in the 1950s, one group of visitors arrived

who didn't get quite such a warm welcome.

In 1957, the Ministry of Defence

unveiled plans to site a missile testing range here.

FILM NARRATOR: 'Whisky galore became rockets galore.'

I don't feel very happy at all about this.

-Why is that?

-I was against it from the very beginning.

Well, I think it's a very good thing.

Good thing for the island.

'Local teacher Mary MacInnes was a young girl at the time

'and she remembers how the plans divided opinion on the island.'

Some people were very keen on brand-new things...

-Uh-huh.

-..coming in and just getting rid of all the old ideas.

Many others wanted to maintain the crofting lifestyle,

and did not want to have the whole area under tarmac or concrete or...

-Mm-hmm.

-..whatever it might be.

-So, they were fearing for their future?

They were. The cause was being fought against it by the local parish priest.

-Uh-huh.

-Er, who was nicknamed Father Rocket.

-Father Rocket?

-Yes. His name was Father John Morrison.

And he took the lead in trying to find the best deal for the islanders.

Father Rocket took up the fight

to stop crofters being forced off their land.

And with the eyes of the world watching,

took on the might of the MOD.

MUSIC: Ave Maria

# Ave Maria... #

Despite seeking divine intervention, construction did go ahead.

But Father Rocket's campaign ensured that the local people

benefited from the project.

Miraculously, he even managed to persuade the army to help him

erect this huge 30-foot statue overlooking the range.

The statue's duty was to keep the islanders safe.

A kind of heavenly policewoman in a way, was it?

That's the one, yes!

-Two new features of the island life were gonna...

-Yes.

-..remain in some kind of harmony.

-Yes.

Our Lady of the Isles watched as missile testing began.

You grew up with the rockets. What was it like?

A red flag would be hoisted.

-Uh-huh.

-Which was a signal for us all

to keep away from certain parts of the land.

We were very anxious and very frightened about it.

And there would be quite a lot of noise, just a big boom!

And you could see the little fire.

And then you could hear it safely drowning itself in the Atlantic.

They would fire two or three a day.

We just all ran away and went home.

It didn't take long, however,

for the 400 or so army staff to succumb to the charms of the island.

And its locals.

Oh, I'm not against them at all.

I mean, they're human beings

and they can't help it if they've got to come here.

-You wouldn't mind?

-I wouldn't mind at all.

MARY: Most of the military personnel were young men,

many of them handsome and unattached.

-It's a recipe for a party.

-Absolutely!

An ongoing party.

And they found partners and wives and husbands.

And to this day, many of them have made their homes

and put their roots down here

and have become part of our community.

People were just taken by the beauty of the island.

-Uh-huh.

-The beauty of the young women.

And the true, um, hospitality and the community.

Under the watchful gaze of the Madonna and child

and with one eye on the skies,

I'm heading for my next destination in this chain of islands.

Home to around 1,300 people, this small island is often referred to

as the stepping stone between its two larger neighbours.

But there's a lot more to it than that.

Benbecula is the only "Ben" in Scotland that isn't a hill.

Now, in Gaelic, Benbecula actually means the hill between two fords,

which kinda makes sense, because in the old days,

in order to get here you had to cross an arm of the sea.

And the hill itself, well, it's not a "Ben" anything,

it's called "Rueval" and it's over there.

It may rise to only 127 metres, but as I make this short climb,

I begin to see more of the spectacular landscape below.

From here, you can see for miles around.

Useful if you happen to be Britain's most wanted man.

That was the case for Bonny Prince Charlie,

who spent the summer of 1746 on the run.

He arrived on Benbecula after his uprising had been

crushed at the Battle of Culloden.

To make matters even worse, the Prince had a price on his head -

an unbelievable £30,000.

That's the equivalent, in today's money, of 50 million.

It was a king's ransom, well, a prince's ransom!

And it was very tempting.

By the time he reached Benbecula, he was tired, hungry and desperate.

But the Prince was about to be rescued by a courageous local woman,

who would risk her life to save him.

Flora MacDonald has been described as a woman with soft features,

gentle manners, a kind soul and elegant presence.

She was just 24 when she met the Prince,

and an audacious plan was hatched to spirit him away to safety.

Incredibly, the plan involved the age-old pantomime trick

of cross-dressing, with the Prince playing the dame.

Now, slipping into a frock,

the Bonny Prince became Bonny Betty Burke,

Flora's devoted maid servant.

And together, they sailed over the sea to Skye,

an event immortalised ever since on millions of shortbread tins.

Prince Charlie escaped to France and lived the life of an exile,

while Flora MacDonald became a legend.

FILM NARRATOR: 'A simple mound of stones

'marks the birthplace of Flora MacDonald.

'"Her name will be mentioned in history," declared Dr Johnson

'"and if courage and fidelity be virtues, mentioned with honour".'

Well, here we are at the summit of Rueval - and I have to

say that the view certainly repays the effort to get here.

You can see all the way down the island chain,

and all around these tiny little lochans that make up Benbecula,

and these flat lands of North and South Uist.

This really is a quite remarkable landscape.

There are thousands of lochans and peaty pools from shore to shore.

And as I head across the causeway to North Uist,

I'm struck by the fact

that this island seems to be more water than land.

This is the sort of place where

wellington boots are absolutely essential.

In fact, it's said that the islanders here are born wearing them.

# If it wisnae for your wellies Where would you be?

# You'd be in the hospital Or infirmary!

# Cos you would have a dose of the flu

# Or even pleurisy

# If you didnae have your feet in your wellies!

# If it wisnae for your wellies Where would you be...? #

But on this island,

you wouldn't be in the hospital or infirmary, because there isn't one.

And at one time, there wasn't even a doctor.

If you were unlucky enough to become ill,

sending for medical help from the mainland could take quite some time.

And in the days before the NHS, it was expensive.

In the old days, a member of the household was sent outside

and instructed to look under the first large stone

they came across, to see if there was anything living underneath.

Ugh!

Now, if there was, a slater or a worm or something,

that meant there was hope,

and there was no point in calling the doctor.

If, on the other hand, there was nothing alive under the stone,

that meant there was no point calling the doctor

because the patient was going to die.

Let's double check under here.

Oh, dear!

No signs of life.

The prognosis is bleak!

Well, what's the case?

It's a crofter's wife about seven miles from here.

-This is the history.

-And?

My first diagnosis was an ovarian cyst,

but I didn't like the look of it.

This film is called Highland Doctor.

Good afternoon, Nurse.

And the main character is largely inspired by Dr Alexander MacLeod,

who did much to improve the life and health

of islanders from the 1930s onwards.

Oh, that's all right now, Mrs MacDonald.

I've come to what was his home and surgery

-to meet his daughter-in-law, Lorna MacLeod, who still lives here.

-Lovely to meet you.

'I want to know more about this remarkable man

'and the life-saving work that he did.'

-There he is.

-Yes.

-Quite an earnest looking chap.

-Yes, he could be quite serious.

-Uh-huh.

-But had a, a dry sense of humour.

-Uh-huh.

Was in the First World War at Gallipoli.

Survived that,

and then went to medical school after the First World War.

In 1932, he came to work here

under the Highlands and Islands Medical Scheme

and it was the first time a doctor had been appointed that...

where patients wouldn't have to pay.

And this was a revolution as far as people in the islands

and the Highlands were concerned.

I'm sure people couldn't get used to the idea that they didn't

-have to pay for the doctor.

-Uh-huh.

-That's the surgery as it was.

-That's, that's the surgery.

Yes, I think this guy's waiting to have some teeth removed.

Oh, he's, he was doing dental work as well?

Yeah, well, there was no dentist. So...

Right. Oh, what a horrifying thought!

He would have to.

What was it like being an island doctor back in the 1930s?

There was no telephone.

People used to send for a doctor by telegram.

-Right.

-From one side of the island to the other.

There were poor, very poor roads.

A lot of the places he wouldn't have been able to get to by car.

There were a lot of sea crossings and sometimes on horseback.

So, it sounds to me as if your father-in-law spent a lot of his time

struggling just to get to see a patient.

Well, yes, that's right.

I mean, if a patient needed you, you had to go. So, he...

Did he ever come back with, er, extra payment for his services?

Oh, yes! I think he...they often got a, you know, a leg of lamb

or eggs or a hen or something like that.

And, um, when he first came to the island,

a patient arrived with a trailer load of peat for him.

Yeah, which was really rather nice.

Thanks to the success of the scheme and Dr MacLeod's campaigning,

plans were put in place for a national health service.

He went away to a lot of BMA meetings,

stood up in his kilt and put... always fought for the best facilities

they could get for the Highlands and Islands.

It must have been a really pioneering experience

because in some ways I suppose, medically and geographically,

the Uists here are on a kind of a frontier

and this new health programme had been rolled out.

Yes, this was the amazing thing

that Scotland had this amazing Highlands and Islands Scheme

and Father was involved in meet, so many meetings

helping set up the National Health Service because of that.

-Because he had first-hand experience...

-Yes.

-..of what it was like.

-Yes.

-The prototype started here.

-Yes.

And we've got some wonderful newspaper cuttings, er,

which suggests to me that during his lifetime

he became something of a medical celebrity,

-a local hero, perhaps?

-Yes. Oh, yes.

This is fantastic. I mean this is heroic stuff, isn't it?

I mean this is riding the range.

-Yeah, well...

-He looks like John Wayne.

We are not out of the woods yet.

There are still lots of things to be done.

Well, you seem to be the kind of man to do them.

Ah, it's really a young man's job out here.

Dr MacLeod retired in 1974, and to this day,

he's still fondly remembered here on the island.

To get to my final destination,

I'm leaving North Uist and heading for the tiny tidal island of Vallay.

And to get there,

I need to make the 2km walk across this spectacular Strand.

Well, it's certainly one of the most beautiful stretches of sand

I've ever seen, and had the privilege to walk across.

'Joining me is local guide, James MacLetchie,

'who's been making this journey since he was in short trousers.'

-You grew up here?

-Yeah, I grew up just in the village there.

My mum was the head teacher,

and every weekend I'd be down here playing on this beach and

we'd often go over to the island there as well, when the tide was out.

Fantastic place to play.

'Remarkably, at one point there were plans afoot that would have

'totally changed this beautiful landscape.'

Ah, there was a plan, when I was growing up as a child,

to block off this area.

And then they were gonna fill it in with soil

and make it into a bulb field from what I remember.

-They were gonna turn it into a Dutch polder?

-More or less, yeah.

This would not have been what it is today.

This intriguing footage from 1969,

shows the pilot scheme.

And what do you think local people felt about the idea

of the Vallay sands being turned into a vast tulip field?

At that time, it was probably a very different attitude

to what we have today,

with work opportunities and whatnot,

but I think today would have been totally horrified.

And as a child, I remember all these, er,

white and red sticks all over the beach and I used to move them -

myself and one of my friends,

we'd move them around. But luckily for us, they...

-You were saboteurs?

-Yes, we were. Yeah.

-Bulb saboteurs!

Yes. We managed to escape being found out.

Whether Jim's small protest played any part, who can say!

But the company behind the tulip farm went bust

leaving this vast expanse of sand unspoilt.

'Crossing to Vallay, James takes me to another of his childhood haunts,

'where a fascinating character lived 100 years ago.'

-And here we are.

-Yeah, Vallay Island.

Vallay! And the ruins.

Yeah, they're amazing when you can see them.

They're so dominant.

And then right up on the left-hand side you can see

Erskine Beveridge's house, built in 1902-1905.

Erskine Beveridge was a wealthy industrialist

with a passion for archaeology.

He fell in love with this tiny island on the edge of the Atlantic.

Where did he make his money?

In the linen manufacturers in Dunfermline, so made quite a big business out of that.

So when they came out here, they were really just coming to

look for sporting estates, as was very common in them days.

And then to find a piece of land like this, with a view like that.

This is Vallay House, or what's left of it.

The gaunt shell of the once opulent home

Beveridge built on his island retreat.

He took three years to build the house, £8,000 to build it.

But what's really beautiful about the house is there was lots...

there were over 365 panes of glass in it,

and there was little round windows

that used to have coloured glass in it.

And on the windows there was the inscription "EB" - Erskine Beveridge.

-Erskine Beveridge.

-Yes.

Quite an incredible thing to build as well.

And if you think of the environment that we're in -

so grand, baronial style property.

'Here on Vallay, Beveridge found the perfect place to indulge his fascination with the past.'

He wanted to go out and explore the environment.

He'd dig down about three foot in the ground and, er,

he'd find lots of antiquities and take them up to the house.

He was interested in human habitation here.

Does it go back a long way?

Well, it goes back to about 8,000 years,

so all around this isle itself,

we can go back right back to the early Iron Age,

we can go Bronze Age as well.

He wrote a book called North Uist and he covered most of the island.

So, a lot of what we know today was actually because of him.

When Erskine Beveridge died in 1920, the house passed to his son,

George, who ran Vallay.

But since his death in 1944, it's lain empty and neglected.

The house has completely fallen into rack and ruin.

Can you remember a time when it wasn't quite so dilapidated?

Well, I remember coming over here in the 1970s.

All the windows were intact,

all the staircases were intact, all the rooms.

-It was amazing place to come.

-Really?

-You used to explore it as wee boy.

-Yeah, we did.

And it was so dark in certain rooms and you'd hear little rats

running around, pigeons would come and hit you in the face.

And growing up, a huge adventure for children. Amazing place to play.

-Uh-huh. After it had been deserted by the owners.

-Yeah.

It's quite sad really it's been left empty and then become desolate.

This solitary outpost now stands as a slowly crumbling memorial

to the pioneering spirit of Erskine Beveridge

and others like him.

But just as nature is reclaiming the land

the sea is also gradually eroding these islands.

This part of the Atlantic frontier seems to have been breached,

perhaps not physically, but at least by time.

'And as I bring this grand tour to a close

'my own race against time begins.

'I have to get back across the Strand,

'before the tide cuts the island off once again.'

On my next grand tour,

I'm exploring some of the remotest islands around the Scottish coast.